


The Sacrifices We Make

by vinegardog



Category: Farscape
Genre: Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-01
Updated: 2016-10-01
Packaged: 2018-08-18 22:58:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8178995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vinegardog/pseuds/vinegardog
Summary: Maldis comes back to Moya and the crew come up with a plan





	

 

Written for SC93 – Maldis hosted by JJ  
  
Set approximately three quarters of the way through season 2, some indefinite time around Beware of Dog   
  
Rating: PG  
  
Word count: about 2600  
  
The characters aren’t mine, just borrowing them to play for a little bit.  
  
This came to me while I tossed and turned in bed during a heat wave.  Admittedly I was feverish when I thought of it so it is pretty off the wall!  Apologies to all Maldis fans.  Those of you who know me, know exactly what I think of him and his two episodes and will probably understand where this came from!    
  
When I talk about con goers, I am also talking about myself since I have attended several and enjoyed every single one of them.  
  
This is vaguely inspired by Redshirts by John Scalzi, which was a real fun read.  
  
Thanks to A Damned Scientist for the beta read.  
  
 **The Sacrifices We Make (PG)**  
  
“Aeryn!” John’s voice, an edge of tension to it, called out over the comms.  
  
“Yes? What’s wrong, John?” She replied, her body tensing in preparation for whatever bad news was to come next, because when did they ever get good news?  
  
“Um.  Well.  Um.” John paused for a microt before continuing “Do you think I’m crazy?” He asked, sheepishly.  
  
“You know I do - and always have - but what’s the problem?” She insisted.  
  
“I… I think I just saw… um… Maldis.” John reluctantly admitted.  
  
“Maldis?!” The incredulity in Aeryn’s voice was in no way curbed by the comms and came through crystal clear.  
  
“Yeah… Maldis.” John repeated. “It bloody well wasn’t Scorpy...” he then muttered to himself before raising his voice again:” I’d swear on my module that it was Maldis, Aeryn.  I only caught quick sight of him before he turned into one of Moya’s side corridors but… um… I’m am pretty sure it was him, yellow eyes an’ all. I tried to follow him but he was just… gone... poof… vanished into thin air.”  
  
Aeryn took her time in answering and modulated her voice into the conciliatory tone that she had learned to use when dealing with the Human at his most irrational: “John, Maldis was vanquished.  You know that as well as I do. You have had difficulty sleeping lately.  Don’t you think you might need some rest?”  
_____  
  
 _Two solar days later_  
  
Aeryn walked into Pilot’s den, made sure that the portal was securely closed behind her and approached the console, a troubled look on her face.  
  
“How may I assist you, Officer Sun?” Pilot gently encouraged her to unburden herself.  
  
“Pilot, I don’t want Crichton to hear this but… well…” She hesitated “Just now, on Tier 25 I caught a glimpse of… somebody… somebody I did not recognize.  Can you please check if Moya’s sensors detect any intruders?”  
  
“Certainly, Aeryn.” Pilot immediately and with methodical precision made the requested checks.  After a few dozen microts he reported the results, relief tingeing his voice: “Moya’s sensors are not detecting any intruders.  The only life signs we read are the ones belonging to the crew, Aeryn.  Would you like me to dispatch the DRDs for a more in depth search of the area?”  He offered.  
  
Aeryn shook her head: “No need, Pilot. I must have been mistaken. Thank you for your assistance in the matter.”  She smiled at him but it was quite obvious to Pilot that she was still troubled as she walked out of the den.  
  
Aeryn wasn’t going to tell the others just yet, not until she had gained some proof at least, but she was pretty sure that the figure she had glimpsed out of the corner of her eye walking along Moya’s corridor was not a figment of her imagination.  Furthermore the ridiculous clothes the mysterious male had been wearing made her certain that he was not one of her crewmates.  
_____  
  
 _Three solar days later_  
  
“JOHN! AERYN!” I request immediate assistance on Tier 37!” D’Argo’s bellow came through so loudly that it made the comms vibrate on both of the receivers’ chests.  The request for help was followed by the clear sounds of a weapon being discharged several times and loud curses in Luxan that, mercifully, the translator microbes failed to interpret.  
  
“Yo! Big D what’s happening, man?  Talk to me!” John took off in the direction indicated by his friend.  
  
“I’m on the way!” Aeryn succinctly said before she also took off at a run towards tier 37.  
  
When John and Aeryn got there, almost simultaneously, they found a very agitated Luxan pacing up and down the corridor, tenkas flapping on his back and Qalta Blade opened up on firing mode.  Before they could say anything, D’Argo exclaimed by way of explanation: “I saw him! You are not gonna believe me but I SAW HIM! I saw that pompous fekkik, Maldis! He was right over there by that doorway! I shouted at him to stop but he kept going.  I followed him and fired a few shots but he… he just… he just disappeared!  You have got to believe me!”  
  
John looked at Aeryn and, without need for words he read it in her face: she knew both John and D’Argo were right.  It dawned on him that she had probably seen the energy sucking Big Ham herself and had just kept quiet about it.   
  
Whatever the case, the fact was: Maldis was back and there was no denying it.  
  
“Let’s gather up the others in Zhaan’s medical bay and decide on a plan of action.” Aeryn instructed before turning on her heels and stalking off.  
_____  
  
 _Half an arn later in Zhaan’s medical bay_  
  
Once everyone had assembled and before the questions and the bickering could start, Aeryn took control of the meeting and cut to the chase in true Aeryn style:”Maldis is back.  In the past weeken, he has been sighted in different parts of Moya.  We need to get rid of him.” With the exception of John and D’Argo, three stunned faces stared back at the ex-Peacekeeper’s pronouncement.  
  
“Are you sure, Aeryn?” Zhaan finally asked.  
  
“Yes, absolutely sure but don’t worry Zhaan, I’ve got a plan.” Aeryn answered quickly, hoping to prevent any possible further interruptions or remonstrations from Chiana and Rygel, which she was sure, were coming. “We are going to trap him and once we have him in custody, we are going to…”  
  
“Wait, wait, wait!” John interrupted her.  “I disagree, Aeryn.”  When he saw Aeryn’s face cloud over with a quick build-up of annoyance behind her grey eyes, he lifted his hands in a placating gesture and continued: “Just listen to me, please.  We cannot do this to our viewers.”  He paused to let that sink in and then continued: “If we follow the writers’ plot and come up with a half-screwy plan to catch him, it will take over a week of filming for it to happen because – don’t you know it? – they are going to throw a few spanners in the works before we barely make it out alive.  And that means that our fans are going to be subjected to another full Maldis episode and we just can’t put them through that again.  Think about it, folks!”  He stopped talking and looked at each of his crewmates long and hard.  “These people have been following us faithfully for over a season and a half now and they have already been punished with not one but two Maldis episodes!   Nobody deserves that!  And certainly nobody – well, maybe with the exception of murderers and Scorpy - deserves to be subjected to a third one, no matter what the writers think!”  Reluctant nods of agreement all around met the end of his speech.  
  
“So, what do you propose we do, John?” Aeryn asked “We ignore the weekly script and… and then what?”  
  
“And… and if we don’t fight him and vanquish him again” Chiana piped in nervously “Won’t Maldis end up remaining on Moya and…and becoming a member of the crew?”  
  
D’Argo hissed in displeasure at that thought and Rygel humphed and shifted uncomfortably in his thronesled.  
  
“Well, yes and no.” John addressed both of the women’s points “Yes, we ignore the script and no, we will not let him become a regular member of the crew.  We’ll… we’ll just ignore him: we meet him in a corridor, we ignore him; we see him in the distance, we turn around and walk the other way.  No interaction means no dialogue lines for him; no dialogue lines for him means minimal screen time; minimal screen time means he doesn’t get in the opening credits – easy peasy!”  
  
“But…but what if I wake up and… and there he is, standing by my bed, all creepy-looking and smirky?” Chiana asked, the thought of that scenario giving her visible goose bumps of repulsion.  
  
“You ignore him!” John insisted “And if you feel like talking to him or hurting him, you just think of your fans, Pip.  I know for a fact you have lots of them.  You may not know this but the actress who plays you has made a living out of signing autographs and doing photo ops with all the thousands of your fans who go see her at the 52 cons a year she attends.”  
  
“Aw, really?” Chiana was mollified at the thought of being so popular a character.  
  
“What the yotz is a con?” Rygel interjected.  
  
“A con is a gathering of fans.  They travel from place to place following their favourite actors, they dress up like their favourite characters and they pay a lot of money to get autographs and pictures posing with them.  I know, it sounds absurd, but it’s all true, they really do that.” John nodded wisely, not surprised at the various degrees of incredulity and scornful scepticism that he read on the faces all around him.  
  
“But how do you know that, John?” D’Argo asked, dumbfounded about the whole thing.  
  
“I know because the guy who plays me also gets invited to lots of those.  I have heard him talk about them during the make-up and costume sessions.” John explained.  
  
A stunned silence followed his answer during which everybody digested the surreal idea of people travelling to far-away places and paying good money just to get signatures and photos with the actors who played in their favourite shows.  
  
Zhaan was the first to recover and offer a possible alternative to John’s plan, because of course she knew only too well how those tended to end up most of the time. “Well, John, I could talk to one of the writers.  I have become quite friendly with one of them in particular.  Maybe I can convince him to scrap the idea of another Maldis episode and the problem will be solved?”   She concluded, hopefully.  
  
“Would the writer in question be the one that makes you take your clothes off every time you pray to your Goddess, Zhaan?” Rygel sniggered.  
  
“Yes, as a matter of fact that is the writer I am referring to, Rygel.  He likes coming to set to see the end result of his scripts and we have struck pleasant conversations several times before.” Zhaan answered, calm personified, intentionally ignoring Rygel’s insinuations.  
  
“Nah, Zhaan.  I know who you are talking about and that guy is a minor player.  It’d be a different story if he was an executive producer or a head writer.  But he has diddly squat say in the overall story arc of the show.” John put an end to that plan.  
  
“I’d still feel better if I could just shoot Maldis when I see him.” Aeryn insisted.  
  
“Hon-eey” John entreated “Think of the fans, just think of the fans!  They love you. They have built a shrine to you. They have drawn murals of you.  They call you their Raven Haired Goddess.  They worship you.  The men want you and the women want to be you!  Do you really want to let them down and let Maldis sully their screens for another week?”  
  
Aeryn’s fingers fidgeted on her pulse pistol before she finally gave in with a curt nod, trying hard to hide how flattered she really felt by her fans’ appreciation.  
  
“Okay,” John said “so we are all on board, right?  We ignore Maldis!”  
  
“Well, the pathetic loser has never really bothered me,” Rygel of course decided to be awkward about it all. “Why should I go along with your fahrbot plan and piss off the writers?  What’s in it for me, eh?”  
  
D’Argo stepped forward threateningly:” What’s in it for you is that you get to keep your short, stubby legs intact, you little selfish git!”  
  
Rygel just whirred sideways away from the looming Luxan and smirked, knowing full well that D’Argo was all bluster and no bite – at least as long as the others were present and ready to intervene in his defence.  
  
“Rygel,” John stepped in between the two warring males and tried to placate them “I caught a glimpse of a draft of one of the scripts from the start of season 3.  In it, they have me break your nose by elbowing you in the face…”  
  
“What?!  What did I ever do to deserve that?” Rygel interrupted him, indignant.  
  
“It’s a long story… but to cut it short you were being your usual self.  Anyway, if you get on board with our Maldis plan, I promise I will go off script that week and you can keep your nose undamaged.  So what do you say?  Deal?”  John blatantly lied about going off script when the time came.  
  
Rygel, who had had no serious intention of going against the rest of the crew anyway, magnanimously nodded giving his agreement.  
  
At that John continued: “Great, so from now on when we meet Maldis…”   
  
“ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT ME?” Maldis’s voice boomed from the entrance to the med bay.  
  
Everybody froze.  
  
“ANSWER ME! ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT ME?” Maldis strutted in wearing a black, poofy, cockerel-like outfit, head held high, left arm cocked on his left hip and stopped in the centre of the room for dramatic effect.  
  
The crew, still frozen in place, resisted the urge to turn towards him.  
  
The first to recover her wits was Zhaan, who finally said:” Well, I need to return to my work station.  Some of my herbal experiments will be yielding results soon and I need to document them.” She then bowed slightly towards the other crewmembers and walked to the back of the room where her station was.  
  
“EXCUSE ME!” Maldis enunciated a la Laurence Olivier, annoyed at the fact that nobody had yet acknowledged his quite remarkable presence.  
  
John was next to jolt into action:” Okay people, I gotta make some modifications to my module. See ya all later.” He said and walked towards the exit.  
  
Aeryn followed in his footsteps:” Wait for me, Crichton.  I have to do some maintenance work on my prowler.”  
  
“I will assist you.” D’Argo offered and followed them out.  
  
“CAN ANYBODY HEAR ME?!” An edge of panic now tinged Maldis’s question.  
  
“Humph, my stomachs are rumbling,” Rygel declared “I’m going to Centre Chamber for a snack” He said as he whirred by Maldis as if he wasn’t there.  
  
“Wait!” Chiana hurried after him “I’m gonna cook you some crispy grolack, you Old Toad.” She said also exiting the room.  
  
“DO NOT IGNORE ME! I WILL NOT BE IGNORED!” Maldis, now extremely agitated, shouted in outrage addressing their retreating backs.  
  
But only silence met his demands.  
  
Zhaan, the last one left in the room, gathered up some vials and serenely headed for the exit too.  
  
“I AM THE STAR OF THIS STARBURST CHALLENGE, YOU CANNOT IGNORE ME!  I FORBID IT!” Maldis imperiously declared standing in her way.  Zhaan just quietly side-stepped him and walked out.  
  
Although not the brightest of beings, Maldis finally realized what was happening.  He blinked several times, dramatically.  He brought his right hand up to cover his heart as if mortally wounded and murmured to himself:” I’m being ignored.  They are ignoring me!  This is a fate worse than death!”  
  
He slowly let his hand drop to his side, his shoulders sagged and he whimpered pathetically as his chin dropped to his chest.  The situation clearly demanded that he cry over his tragic destiny of oblivion aboard this damned ship.  And he tried, he really did, he tried as hard as he could, but, alas, producing even a single tear was far beyond his acting ken.  
  
  
The End.

 


End file.
